


Lesson One

by thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Clothed/Naked, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Identity Porn, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-04 13:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Ben Solo walks into a bar. His uncle Luke doesn't recognize him.





	Lesson One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/gifts).



He knew he shouldn't but when he realized he hadn't been recognized, he just couldn't help himself. 

He sat down at the bar and he expected dear old Uncle Luke to know him. He guessed he'd thought maybe his mom and dad had shown him pictures or holograms or whatever, _something_ in the years since he'd last seen him, but it turned out he must've been wrong because Luke just looked at him for a moment with a faint hint of a polite smile before he looked away again. It wasn't a smile of recognition. All those years of missed meetings, Uncle Luke didn't know who he was. 

Maybe he should've been irritated by it. He guessed he was, underneath - wasn't he important enough to his mom and dad for them to share him with his only uncle? But that settled under a thin layer of amusement. Luke didn't know him. He wasn't due to meet him there for another week, after all, and he hadn't called ahead to let him know he'd gotten angry enough at his mom that he'd walked out and taken the trip early. As far as Luke knew, he was just another traveler looking for a drink. Maybe some food. Maybe some company. 

That was when the idea struck. He knew he shouldn't, he knew it was the kind of dumb trouble that the general was worried he'd get himself into, the kind of thing that was the reason she'd sent him to his uncle for training in the first place, except Luke didn't know him and he just couldn't help himself. It was perfect. Really, what else was he supposed to do? 

He ordered a drink and fidgeted with the bartop as he waited for it, glancing at Luke every now and then. He sipped his drink while Luke finished his food, ordered the same for himself and glanced at him every now and then as he ate. Luke ordered a drink; Ben ordered another himself and he glanced at him every now and then as they both drank. He was obvious. He was _very_ obvious, like he didn't mean to be but couldn't help it. He wasn't subtle. Luke couldn't have helped but notice, and he almost knew he'd been watching, in the mirror behind the bar, in the reflections in the bottles, in moments when Ben looked away, maybe even in the Force. And then, finally, Ben cleared his throat. That wasn't subtle, either.

"So, do you come here often?" Ben asked, peering sidelong at Luke as he sat there astride his barstool, almost like he'd been gathering the nerve to speak. 

Luke glanced at him just long enough to confirm he was speaking to him and then turned his head to him. "From time to time," he replied, guardedly. 

Looking at him, Luke was older than Ben remembered, but that made sense considering how much time had passed since he'd last seen him in the flesh. His hair was longer and grayer and Ben had grown but somehow Luke seemed bigger than he'd used to and not the other way around. The general liked to talk about her brother as if he was a legend and not a man sometimes, like he was the living embodiment of old Jedi virtues - Ben had never believed that, but he did seem strong. He seemed self-assured. He seemed to know himself in a way that Ben didn't. He envied him that.

"I haven't seen you here before," Luke said. 

Ben turned a little more, angling his shoulders toward him, leaning on casually against the worn old bar though the surface was faintly tacky to the touch. It was a hole in the wall kind of place in a spaceport town so he hadn't expected a diplomatic dinner and dazzling waiters. He preferred this, but it was a marginal thing.

"I'm between flights," he said. "I'm just passing through. One night only." 

"It's honestly more unusual to find someone who's here to stay," Luke replied. 

Ben smiled. He dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling it back out of his eyes, and he watched Luke watch him do it. He watched Luke's gaze move over the muscles in the side of his neck, down to the hollow at the base of his throat just over the collar of his coat. It was the sort of place that people went for company, after all, and even the high and mighty Luke Skywalker wasn't made of stone. But then Luke took a sharp breath and he stood. 

"I should go," he said, and he started to, but Ben pushed up to his feet and he caught Luke's arm. He caught his wrist - his _real_ wrist, not the metal one. Luke flinched.

"Don't," Ben said. 

Luke frowned down at the hand around his wrist. He frowned up at Ben. "You're Force-sensitive," he said. 

Ben smiled what he hoped looked self-consciously. "If you say so but I don't know what that means," he said, then he shuffled in closer, glancing around almost like he was checking who might be watching them. He leaned closer, almost by Luke's ear. "But if you want to force me, I'll let you." 

Luke snatched his wrist out of Ben's grip. He took him by the shoulders, his metal hand clamping down almost painfully, like he didn't know his own strength with it but Ben was absolutely sure he did, and for a moment, before he reined it in, Uncle Luke looked dangerous. He looked like he could've reached into his chest and yanked his heart straight out, bared his teeth and ripped out his throat, burned him to ashes on the spot just with the heat in his eyes, if he'd just had a fraction less restraint. 

That was the moment Ben knew he'd made a mistake. Luke's presence filled the room. People turned to look. He'd been sent so Luke could teach him that, that restraint that covered something darker, not to get him to direct it at him. The problem was, it was thrilling.

"Not here," Luke said. He turned away abruptly. His cloak swept a circle against the dusty floor and he looked back over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

He shouldn't have. He should've laughed it off and said _Surprise!_ and told him who he was like it was a really funny practical joke that he'd just played before things got really out of hand, because he told himself that was how he'd planned it. But he didn't laugh it off. The way Luke looked at him, dark and hot, not peaceful like his mom had always said the Jedi were like she would even know somehow, he couldn't do it. He nodded yes, the motion small, almost apprehensive. And when Luke headed for the door, he followed. 

They didn't step into a speeder and head out to the temple like Ben thought they might, but he guessed that made sense. It was dark outside and the moon was out but he could barely see it over the bright signs and the landing lights of the ships taking off or coming in. The streets of the rundown backwoods spaceport were bustling with travelers and shouting street food vendors enveloped in clouds of pungent steam, familiar old-time jizz music spilling out from a cantina down the street though he couldn't make out enough of it to remember the name of the band. 

Luke strode away and Ben jogged to catch up and they walked together, briskly, side-by-side, Luke dodging the pedestrians in their way like they weren't even there and Ben apologizing his way down the street and around the corner as he crashed into every third person and his chest was tight and his heart was racing and it wasn't just from the crowd or the noise or the drinks he'd had back in the bar. Luke led the way, surely, straight up to the door of the boarding house where Ben had checked in three hours earlier. Ben frowned. He figured he'd been caught red-handed, at least maybe, but then maybe not. For a second he was sure Luke knew, but then he wasn't. 

"How did you know this is where I'd be staying?" he asked, feeling the situation out as they stood just outside the door under the hovering streetlight. 

"You really want to know?" 

Ben nodded. Luke stepped in closer. Ben stepped back against the wall behind him.

"You don't have a ship of your own and there are three boarding houses on this side of the spaceport," Luke replied. He took a handful of Ben's jacket with his human hand; he leaned against the wall with the other. "You're dressed too well for the first one. You're Force-sensitive, and that would've warned you away from the second." 

Luke leaned in. Ben swallowed. 

"Invite me in," Luke said, his breath hot at the side of Ben's neck. It made his stomach clench. He clenched his fists, his nails jabbing his palms, resting his head against the wall. He'd taken this too far. He should've known better, he thought, except he _had_ known better and he'd done it anyway but the stupid part was he didn't actually want to stop. He wanted to see how far it would go. He wanted to see if Luke knew. He wasn't sure if he hoped he did or didn't.

"Would you like to come in?" Ben asked. His voice wasn't steady, as much as he tried, and he _did_ try. 

"Yes, I would," Luke replied. 

They went inside. Luke held the door and Ben led the way, down the hall past the scowling Toydarian at the desk, under the harsh lights that made Luke look older and harder but that really wasn't a deterrent. Luke's cloak brushed the floor and his lightsaber hung from his belt and he was everything Ben's mom had said he was, like they weren't walking down the corridor of a near-disreputable boarding house in a less-than-upstanding part of a busy spaceport town. He looked like a Jedi, even knowing what they'd gone there for.

Ben unlocked the room. They went inside. Luke didn't turn on the light; he activated his lightsaber instead, with a buzz that made Ben flinch, and he stood it on its end on the desk by the wall. It cast a green glow in the dark, over both of them as they stood there, over the scuffed thermaplast floor tiles and the neatly made bed. 

"What do I call you?" Ben asked, maybe just for something to say to break up the hum of the lightsaber. 

"Luke," he replied. He stepped closer. He pushed his cloak back over his shoulders and let it drop to the floor at his feet. He flexed his hands, casting shadows. Ben took an unsteady breath. "And you?"

"You can call me Kylo," Ben said. He hated the way his voice sounded, so stiff and anxious and right on the edge of needy. This wasn't the lighthearted, embarrassing prank he'd intended to play. His hands felt cold. His throat felt tight and the way Luke's face looked in the flickering green light of the lightsaber, he knew he'd taken this too far. If Luke was playing the same game he was, he'd won the moment he'd stood up back in the bar, but Ben didn't know. He couldn't tell. 

"Take off your clothes," Luke said. Ben's cock stirred. He hissed in a breath. And he almost said it right then - _Luke, I'm your nephew_ \- except he didn't say it. He unzipped his jacket and he slung it over the back of a nearby chair. He toed off his boots. He pulled off his shirt. He couldn't tell if he was playing chicken or getting ready for sex and he frankly wasn't sure which option he preferred except he took off his pants next, he stripped until he was standing there naked, his bare skin bathed in low green light. 

"On the bed," Luke said, his voice sounding lower somehow, gruffer. "On your back." So Ben did that. He stretched out on his back with his head on the pillows and he tried not to notice how his cock started to stiffen. He tried to seem nonchalant but he wasn't and he failed. He could barely stay still. His hands took two fistfuls of the sheets beneath him and he looked at Luke who knelt on the foot of the bed, who crawled up higher still in his boots and pants and tunic, whose clothes brushed against Ben's skin and made him shiver. Luke knelt between Ben's thighs. He rested his hands against them and Ben wasn't sure if it was the skin or the metal that made his cock fill harder. 

Luke turned slightly. He gestured with one hand, his human hand, and a bottle of something spun out of his dropped cloak and sailed through the air with a sparkle of green light on glass till he caught it. He seemed to consider his next move for a moment then unstoppered the bottle and dipped one finger inside it; it came back slick and shining with the bottle's contents, maybe something for the joints in his metal hand, maybe something else, but as Luke eased Ben's knees out a little wider with his metal hand, he knew. Luke's real hand moved down, Luke pushed up Ben's knee, and when his slick fingertip brushed against the rim of his hole, he knew. He reached up with both hands to grab the headboard tight. Luke didn't know. _Luke didn't know_. He had no idea what to do. 

He had no idea what to do so he did nothing. He watched Luke shift, pulling at his tunic till his cock was exposed and he should have stopped it, he should have stopped it so long before then but then would have worked, then would have made sense, but he didn't stop it. He felt his cock bob in air as Luke's hands hooked underneath his knees and he should _stopped_ him but Luke shuffled closer, Luke slicked the length of his cock, Luke stroked himself with a soft, slick sound in the low green light and then it was too late for him to stop because Luke guided the tip of his cock down between Ben's thighs and up against his hole. He inched forward and Ben's breath hitched and his arms pulled down hard as he felt it, Luke's slick cock penetrating him, the head of Luke's cock inside him, then more, then _more_. He pushed into him in silence only broken by their breath and the low, electric hum of Luke's lightsaber.

He was still on his knees. He fucked him like that, on his knees, fully dressed, pushing up Ben's thighs to expose his hole and make his entry easier. He was stronger than he looked, Ben thought, as he felt himself give, as he felt Luke's cock open him, or maybe he was just using the Force, and Luke bared his teeth, his breath harsh as he moved in him. Ben tingled with it, knowing it was wrong, hating it, regretting what he'd done and wanting it anyway as Luke's hips snapped against him, pushing in deep, making the flimsy bed beneath them creak. Ben pushed down against him, made him groan as he took him deeper. Luke laughed. He fucked him harder, his slick human hand going down to wrap around Ben's cock. He stroked him. He made him groan, too.

It wasn't over quickly; it might have been easier if it had been but it wasn't. Confusingly, it wasn't. Luke pulled out of him at some point and pushed him down on his hands and knees and then he was back in him again like that, his metal hand pushing down between Ben's shoulder blades as he drew back right to the tip then pushed back in. He pulled out, he re-entered with just the head, he pulled out, he penetrated him over and over just like that till Ben's hands were almost tearing at the sheets and the mattress muffled the way he almost screamed with frustration at it. But then Luke was in him again, his tunic rubbing maddeningly against the back of his thighs, and he stroked his own cock, pulled at it, overhand, bucking back against him as his long hair stuck to his face and neck and the lightsaber hummed and hummed till his head was full with the sound of it. 

Luke came in him. He finished with a few final jerks of his hips, erratic, not the deep, hard, measured pace he'd kept before, and Ben could feel it, not just the throb of Luke's cock inside him but in the air around them, like a crackle in the Force between them, just for a moment, lighting up every nerve in him in pleasure. He came from it as Luke's hand closed over his, emptying himself over Luke's fingers, over the sheets. He could hear his pulse in his ears. His chest heaved with his breath. Luke's hand squeezed his cock and he kept the last shred of his dignity intact by muffling his whimper against the mattress. He should have known better, he thought, but he _had_ known better; he should have paid closer attention to that fact, he thought, but he wasn't sure if he regretted it. Not yet, at least. He'd wanted Luke since the bar, since he'd grabbed his wrist. He'd wanted that power he'd seen in him. 

In the end, Luke softened inside him and then he finally pulled out. Ben turned. He sat back against the headboard and he looked at him in the green glow that wasn't nearly enough to really _see_ him, at least not past broad strokes, not more than the general shape of him as he rearranged his clothes, tucked himself away and then left the bed. He retrieved his lightsaber, he took it in his hand and then he came back, he straddled Ben's bare thighs, one knee at either side, the toes of his boots digging into the mattress. He brought the saber closer. He laced his metal fingers into Ben's hair and pulled back his head. The glowing green blade came in not quite an inch from his throat and gleamed in Luke's eyes. 

"This is your first lesson," he said. "Don't play games with me, Ben." 

He knew. 

Ben's stomach lurched. Luke deactivated the saber. He kissed him on the mouth, his fingers still tangled in Ben's hair, stealing the air away from in him, and Ben was kissing him back in the pitch black before he could help himself, pulling at Luke's tunic, clawing at it, desperate, sick, maybe furious or maybe entertained.

Then he felt him move; he saw his silhouette in the light as the door opened; he left him in the dark. All he could do was laugh as Luke's footsteps faded down the corridor. 

His training had started. Uncle Luke was everything the general had said he was, and more.


End file.
